Sister, Sister
by Random1377
Summary: One sister is bad enough...  Complete.
1. A Guest for Tea

Disclaimer: _Love Hina_ is owned by Ken Akamatsu, that kooky manga-ka of song and stage. Should he, or any of his associates ask, this story will be removed from the web ASAP. I'm not making money on this, Ken… don't sue me.

Sister, Sister

Part 1 – A Guest for Tea

By Random1377

It has been said that most catastrophes start with a small error in judgment. Such was not the case on that fine Tuesday afternoon at the Hinata Inn – unless one counts answering the doorbell as an error in judgment, that is, and if that's a crime, then there is not a soul over the age of 7 innocent of it.

"Hey," Naru called down the stairs, "someone's at the door."

Motoko, the only other resident home at the time, replied, "I'm in the middle of cooking lunch. Would you mind seeing who it is?"

Yawning, Naru meandered down the stairs. "I got it. What are you making, anyway?"

"Just some ramen," Motoko answered, poking her head out of the kitchen for a moment. "Did you want me to add anything special to it?"

"Nah, just make sure there's enough for Keitaro when he gets back."

Motoko nodded and ducked back into the kitchen.

Naru hummed a bit as she headed to the front door. Things were finally looking up. She had confessed her feelings to Keitaro, they were dating and making out whenever they got the chance, and even though everyone else in the Hinata had suddenly confessed as well, she was the one he was with. She had won.

Now if she could just get rid of that nagging feeling that something was ever so slightly off.

"Welcome to the Hinata Inn," she said politely, bowing from the waist as she opened the door. "How can I help…oh, it's you."

The visitor, Motoko's sister Tsuruko, tipped her hat. "I was just in the neighborhood," she said brightly. "May I come in?"

Naru gestured her inside. "Sure," she said, glancing warily to the sword hanging from the older woman's belt.

The last time Naru had seen the elder Aoyama, it had been in a knock-down, drag-out fight with Motoko – a fight that could have ended with Motoko being forced to leave the Hinata forever. Motoko had prevailed, of course, but the memory of Tsuruko's intensity was still fresh in Naru's mind.

Perhaps, she reasoned, because it had only been two weeks prior.

"Motoko," Naru called, "your sister is here."

There was a loud crash from the kitchen, and a moment later, Motoko emerged looking cool and composed… though as she passed by Naru to greet her sister, Naru spotted the handles of butcher knives peeking out from the edges of Motoko's sleeves.

_Can't be too careful, _Naru thought wryly, guessing by Tsuruko's grin that she was as aware of the knives as Naru.

"Would you like some tea?"

Tsuruko smiled at Naru's offer. "That sounds wonderful," she said honestly. "I am a bit parched." Turning her attention to her sister, Tsuruko mused, "This haircut suits you."

Self-consciously, Motoko touched her shorn hair. "Thank you," she mumbled, excusing herself to her room as soon as Naru reappeared with the tea tray and retrieving one of her practice blades.

_Can't be too careful…_

When she returned to the living room, Tsuruko was sipping her tea and making light conversation, seemingly harmless and docile as a kitten… though the mental image of her sister as anything harmless and docile was so foreign that Motoko leaned against the wall with her blade resting against her hip, rather than joining Naru on the couch.

Something, she decided firmly, was definitely up.

"Is your manager here?"

Naru shook her head. "He went into town to buy a couple things," she said. "He should be back in a few minutes, though." She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Just thought I should say hi, since I was here," Tsuruko said, pausing for a sip of her tea before glancing at her sister and adding, "You wouldn't want me to embarrass you in front of the man you love, would you?"

Blushing, Motoko shot Naru a nervous look, but Naru simply turned to Tsuruko and said, "You should know that Keitaro's with me."

Tsuruko nodded and set her cup down. "Oh, I know," she murmured. "But Motoko still cares for him, so I wouldn't want to be rude."

"Yes, well, I'm sure he'd get over it," Motoko said uncomfortably, "so there's no need to wait around just for him."

Smiling benignly, Tsuruko rose to her feet. "No need to wait," she said smoothly. "I think I hear him coming up the stairs."

A moment later, the sound of falling metal reached their ears, followed by a cry of dismay. "Sounds like he dropped the cans," Naru sighed. "He's so damn clumsy sometimes. I better go help him."

Motoko waited until Naru had gone outside before leaning closer to her sister and whispering, "Why are you really here? I thought you said you would be happy for me if I was enjoying what I was doing."

Smiling warmly, Tsuruko patted her sister on the shoulder. "I am happy for you," she said firmly. "I just wanted to stop by. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

Tsuruko laughed. "Come now, sister," she said. "There _are_ other people here I might have interest in seeing…"

As if on cue, Keitaro made his way through the front door of the Hinata, struggling valiantly with a half dozen plastic grocery bags. "Oh, Ms. Aoyama," he said, stopping short and nearly causing Naru to run into his back. "Hi."

"Mister Manager," Tsuruko said, flashing a dazzling smile, "how are you?"

"Pretty good," Keitaro said, looking rather confused as he set the bags down and held out his hand. "What brings you to the Hinata today?"

Tsuruko firmly took his hand.

"You."

Motoko had her blade out in less than a half of a second, every danger instinct she possessed screaming that something bad was about to happen – and it was, though Motoko could not have predicted exactly _what_ was about to happen if she lived to be a hundred, because even as she squared her shoulders, Tsuruko's blade was flashing towards her.

"Ah!"

Tsuruko's sword hit Motoko's from the side, catching it at the thinnest part and – to Motoko's horror – shattering it with almost effortless ease.

"Give us a moment, won't you?" Tsuruko whispered, speaking as if asking nothing more than a little time with her husband. "This won't take long."

So saying, she brought her blade back… and ran Keitaro through.

Or rather, she would have, had Naru not thrown her hands up in shock and dropped all the cans in her hand, fouling Tsuruko's aim and making her drive her sword through metal instead of flesh. Keitaro's eyes widened, and he yanked his hand free – a feat only possible due to Tsuruko's attention being focused on the skewered can of beef vegetable soup – and bolted, sprinting up the stairs to the next floor without bothering to see if anyone was following him.

The chase was on.

"Sister!"

Tsuruko paid Motoko no mind, whipping the can off of the end of her sword and dashing after Keitaro as if nothing else in the world mattered besides spilling his blood.

"You will not escape."

Naru and Motoko goggled at each other for a moment before giving chase. "My room," Motoko shouted, "get my sword – the black one! I'll head them off on the third floor!"

"Got it!"

Motoko put her head down and pushed her body as hard as she could, giving the chase everything she had. _This is bad,_ she thought grimly, pounding up the stars and thanking her lucky stars that all of the younger residents were out with Kitsune on a tour of Kyoto so no one else was in danger of being hurt by her sister's madness.

Because, she reasoned, there was no other explanation for what was happening other than madness.

"Yah!"

Motoko threw herself to ground as she reached the third floor, barely avoiding a rather large projectile – which, she noticed as it passed overhead, was Ketiaro himself.

"Waaahhh!"

"Get over here, Manager!" Tsuruko cried, vaulting over Motoko and pursuing Keitaro as he regained his footing and rushed up the stairs towards the roof. "It won't hurt if I do it quickly!"

Shooting to her feet, Motoko followed, her stomach clenching with fear at the seriousness in her sister's voice. "No," she gasped, "No, no, no!"

The intent in her sister's actions was clear – Tsuruko was seeking Keitaro's life.

"No!"

She reached the roof just in time to see Keitaro flying towards the far side, bouncing a couple of times before finally coming to a stop, his eyes spirals of dizziness.

Crouching low, Tsuruko cried, "Oni-giri!" and catapulted herself into the air.

Motoko screamed, holding her hand out in a futile attempt to catch her sister's sleeve, but it was too late.

"What?" Naru panted, finally reaching the rooftop. "What the hell is she screaming about riceballs for?"

There was a tremendous clap of thunder as Tsuruko came down on Keitaro's location, kicking up dust and bits of rooftop and concealing both combatants in a cloud of debris.

Slumping against the railing, Motoko hollowly replied, "She didn't say, 'onigiri,' she said, 'oni-giri' – demon slash. It's forbidden in the Shinmei Ryu because of its power." She lifted her eyes to Naru's, swallowing hard before she managed to murmur, "It's meant to be a killing blow…"

Naru immediately started forward, but Motoko caught her arm, gasping out loud as she pointed to the clearing dust.

The two stared in amazement as the air finally cleared, revealing an interesting scene. Tsuruko was on her knees, with her blade held firmly in both hands in a reverse grip, so that the point of the weapon was aimed directly at Keitaro's heart. Or so Naru assumed, based on her pose, but the end of the blade was buried not in Keitaro's chest… but the rooftop – a mere inch from his body.

"She… missed?"

Motoko slowly shook her head. "My sister doesn't miss."

Slowly Tsuruko released her sword, leaving it driven halfway into the rooftop. Finally finding his voice, Keitaro spluttered, "A-are you crazy? You could have killed me!"

Tsuruko shook her head, offering him her hand. "No," she whispered as he warily eyed her hand, scooting back on the roof to get to his feet on his own. "I just had to be sure."

"What is she talking about?" Naru wondered, but Motoko only shook her head.

As Keitaro looked around for the quickest avenue of retreat, and briefly considered jumping off the roof, Tsuruko shocked them all by sinking to her knees and placing both hands on the rooftop, her eyes directed submissively low as she whispered, "My life is yours, if you require it for attacking you… but if you will permit me to live, I offer myself to you as servant and advisor."

"Sister!" Motoko gasped. "What is this all about?"

Ignoring her, Tsuruko looked up at Keitaro. "What is your decision… Keitaro-shito?"

A soft breeze blew over the scene, ruffling Naru's hair as she stood in confused silence, trying to make sense of Tsuruko's mind-boggling offer to be Keitaro's servant. "Motoko," she whispered urgently, "I think we need to get Keitaro out of here… your sister's cracked."

Motoko slowly shook her head, staring at Keitaro as if seeing him for the first time. "Do you know what a shito is?" she asked, her lips barely moving as she finally released the handle of her shattered blade, letting it fall to the rooftop with a muffled clatter.

"It's a messenger," Naru replied. "Right?"

"Right," Motoko replied. "But a messenger from who?"

Pursing her lips, Naru said, "Umm, God?"

Even as the words left Naru's mouth, Motoko was hesitantly joining her sister in kneeling in front of the now very perplexed Keitaro. As their eyes met, Naru snorted, folding her arms over her breasts and turning her nose up.

"Don't give me that look," she muttered. "We may be dating, but I ain't ready to bow down and worship you just yet."

And the wind continued to blow, carrying with it the scent of the sea, and the unpleasantly decisive fragrance of change. It made Naru's neck hair stand on end, because contrary to the popular expression, in her experience anyway, change was _not_ good.

Continued…

Next chapter: "What the hell does that mean?" "Doesn't it hurt when you do that?" "I don't care – you can't have him!" "Well, they _are_ soft." "That's right, Urashima… body and soul."

Pre-read on this chapter was done by Hawker-748, who was disappointed when he got to the end and found out there was no necking in this chapter. Sorry, man, maybe next time…


	2. A Walk in the Park

Disclaimer: see part 1

Sister, Sister

Part 2 – A Walk in the Park

By Random1377

Keitaro groaned, throwing his arms over the back of the park bench and letting his chin rest limply against his chest. How he had escaped the madness at the Hinata Sou unnoticed he was still unsure. All he knew was that Motoko's crackpot sister had shown up, tried to kill him, then started bowing and babbling about messengers and servants.

In the ensuing, mostly Naru-led argument, Keitaro had made a break for it, exiting the Hinata Sou at roughly the speed of sound as the girls on the roof shouted at one another over – of all things – _him_. From what he had heard, which wasn't much considering how fast he was running, Tsuruko wanted to live at the Hinata to be close to Kietaro, and Naru – predictably – had some issues with the idea.

_But why?_ Keitaro thought, letting out a deep, gusty sigh as the calm and quiet of the park began to ease his frayed nerves. _And what the hell was she talking about? Shito? Me…? All that sword swinging must have jarred her brain loose or something – and Motoko was kneeling right there beside her! I swear…_

He sighed again, shaking his head ruefully as he wondered just what he should do next.

"Is it really that bad?"

Keitaro yelped at the softly asked question, whipping his head around to find that in his confusion he had failed to notice the arrival of a second party to the park bench.

"The way you sigh," the woman observed, "suggests that you are at the end of your rope. A young man as cute as yourself certainly has no call to be that unhappy."

"Well," Keitaro admitted reluctantly, "I do have a few… wait, do I know you?"

The woman sitting next to him – rather closely next to him, now that he was paying enough attention to notice – wore a light cloak with a deep hood, so he could not see her face, but there was something… familiar about her voice.

"Oh, we've never met," the woman assured him, reaching up to pull her hood back. "But I have heard a lot about you. You could say your reputation precedes you… Mister Urashima."

Keitaro stared blankly at the woman for a long minute, trying to place her, but having never seen her before it was rather tricky. She had long white hair, deeply blue eyes, and caramel-hued skin, as if her homeland was perpetually sunny.

_Like Su,_ he thought suddenly.

The recognition must have shown on his face, because the woman smiled and said, "It's the cheekbones, isn't it? We all have the same cheekbones."

"You're… Kaolla's sister?" Keitaro asked hesitantly.

Sticking out her hand, the woman's smile grew larger. "Amalla Su," she said warmly. "I'm pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Mister Urashima. My sister has told our family quite a lot about you in her letters."

Keitaro nodded, feeling surreal somehow to be having such a normal conversation when less than twenty minutes before he was running for his life from a crazy sword wielding woman whose grip on sanity had become tenuous at best.

As he shook her hand, Keitaro noticed several things about Amalla Su. First, that she was a very, very attractive woman. He guessed that she was in her mid to late twenties, and in addition to the aforementioned caramel skin and mesmerizing eyes, she had a thin waist, smooth, well rounded hips, and breasts on par with Mutsumi or Naru's – and it was easy for Keitaro to see all of this as, under the cloak that was now thrown back, Amalla was wearing an outfit similar to the one Kaolla wore when she 'became an adult' under the red moon.

That is to say – it looked like she was wearing a pair of short shorts and a halter top.

The second thing he noticed was that her voice, unlike Kaolla's, was low and husky – the kind of voice one normally associated with sultry lounge singers or longtime smokers. The kind of voice that sent pleasant shivers up and down a man's spine, much as shivers were running up and down Keitaro's at that very moment.

Lastly, he noticed that in the course of their conversation… Amalla had been discretely invading his personal space, until – by the time he actually recognized it – she was nearly in his lap, and it seemed that she was in no hurry to release his hand now that she had it.

All of these observations collided in Keitaro's mind, drawing the eloquent comment of, "Fleghen!" from his mouth as he tried to pull away, only to realize that Amalla had neatly cornered him against the back of the park bench.

"You're cuter than I thought," she whispered, abruptly swinging one leg over Keitaro's lap and pinning him to the bench. "Kaoalla's drawings do you no justice, Mister Urashima. You are definitely… all that I hoped you would be."

Had this happened to Keitaro when he first came to the Hinata, he probably would have fainted from sheer happiness. As it was, three years in the company of attractive women – attractive women who were almost always being exposed to him in some way or another – had given Keitaro the tiniest bit of resistance to their charms.

And then there was the fact that he was as clumsy as a camel in roller-skates.

As Amalla leaned closer, Keitaro tried to put up his hands to push her away. Considering their positioning, he ended up (perhaps predictably) with two palms full of Amalla, drawing a squeal of delight from the woman.

"My!" she breathed, throwing her arms around his neck as he tried to pull away. "You _are_ bold! Take me, Urashima – my body and soul are yours for the asking."

"B-body and s-soul?"

Amalla grinned. "That's right, Urashima… body and soul. Be one with me… right here… right now. Make me yours."

"_Huh_?"

The laws of fate and comedy decreed that this would be an excellent time for one of the Hinata Sou's residents to happen by.

"Brother!"

Keitaro's eyes bugged out of his head at his adopted sister's gasp of shock. "This… this isn't what it looks like!" he stammered, reminding himself belatedly to pull his hands away from Amalla's chest.

"Who are you?" Kanako demanded, dropping the bag of groceries in her hand and leveling a finger at the intruder. "And what are you doing in my brother's lap?"

"I didn't hear him complaining," Amalla pointed out wickedly. "As for who I am – my name is Amalla Su… soon to be Amalla Urashima."

"What the hell does that mean?" Kanako shouted, advancing on the bench with a rather evil glare on her face. "Do you think my brother would choose a harlot like you over his own, sweet, innocent little sister?"

"Well I do have this letter."

Kanako halted as Amalla reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. Flipping it open, she cleared her throat and read it aloud.

"Dear Miss Su, I thought it might interest you to know that your sister is currently living with a shito named Urashima Keitaro. I would strongly suggest that you look into this."

"Give me that," Kanako growled, snatching the letter from Amalla and scanning it, her lips moving as she read the simple message. "I fail to see," she said calmly, "how this is an invitation to molest my brother."

Amalla smiled. "Molmol needs a prince," said simply. "Mister Urashima is unattached. I can make it very…" Amalla pressed herself closer to Keitaro, "agreeable for him – in every way – to marry into the family. He would never want for money, companionship, or sexual gratifi-"

"I don't care – you can't have him!"

"Ooo feisty!" Amalla said approvingly. "Well, I did come prepared to stake my claim by any means necessary, so…"

Before Keitaro could blink, Amalla leaned forward and kissed the end of his nose.

"Don't move, lover," she said sweetly, "this will only take a moment."

So saying, she planted her feet on the park bench and kicked off, flipping backwards to land in front of Kanako with her cloak billowing out behind her like a hero in an old time movie.

"Amalla Su," she announced, bringing her fists up to eye level. "Lightening fist style, fifth circle. Prepare yourself."

Kanako bared her teeth. "Kanako Urashima," she spat, "Intruding hussy beat-down style, first degree. Get ready to start hurting!"

As the two launched themselves at one another, Keitaro took the opportunity to slip into the trees and vanish, executing the patented 'Urashima fade' to get the hell out of dodge.

Had he been a bit more perceptive, he may have noticed another observer to the exchange, scowling from the shadows on the far side of the clearing as carefully laid plans were rent asunder.

( 0 0 0 )

"Damn it!" Naru cried, dropping the sofa cushion she had been looking under. "This is your fault, you idiot!"

Tsuruko, clearly unused to being addressed in this way, bristled. "Excuse me?" she said coolly. "I fail to see how this is my fault. I simply wanted to assure myself that he was, in fact, a shito, so-"

"And if you were wrong and accidentally ran him through?" Naru interrupted. "Then what?"

Waving a hand to dismiss the idea, Tsuruko replied, "Oh, it wouldn't have come to that."

"Right," Naru said acidly, "if that can hadn't been there, you wouldn't have been able to keep from gutting him. God you're a psycho!"

"He was never in danger," Tsuruko said serenely, "because he _is_ a shito."

"You keep saying that," Naru pointed out, "but you've never said why you think that."

Motoko, who had been looking in the kitchen for any sign of the missing manager, reappeared in the living room in time to hear this last comment. "I was wondering that myself," she admitted. "Sister, I know he seems invulnerable, but why, exactly do you think that Urashima is a shito?"

Silently, Tsuruko reached into her gi and pulled out a folded letter, handing it to Naru, who read it aloud with a growing sense of surrealism.

"Dear Misses Aoyama, Keitaro Urashima, the manager of the dorm your younger sister lives in, is a shito. I thought you might like to know."

"Now just that alone wouldn't be enough to get me to come here," Tsuruko said evenly. "But there is, of course, the evidence supporting it – this was just the last piece of the puzzle. If I hadn't gotten this, I never would have acted."

"What evidence?" Naru asked, glancing at the clock.

_The others will be back soon,_ she thought, _we need to figure this out fast._

"Well," the elder Aoyama said carefully, "there is the obvious immortality… and based on the few letters my sister has written outlining the feelings of the other residents for him – as well as her current infatuation, of course – there is his seemingly innate ability to alter the moods of those around him."

Naru blinked. "Come again?"

Folded her arms and assessed Naru for a long moment before murmuring, "Consider this: when Motoko arrived here, she had no goal other than to enhance her kendo skills. Similarly, your young friends Miss Mahera and Miss Su both wanted only to spend time away from their turbulent home lives." She met Naru's eyes. "What are their goals now – each and every one of them?"

It was Motoko who replied, her eyes wide as she slowly breathed, "To test into Todai."

"And for what reason?"

Motoko blushed and averted her eyes, forcing Naru to step into the conversation. "You can't be serious," she said flatly. "You're telling me that because he's a shito, everyone around him wants to get into the same school as him just to be close to him? What a crock."

But Tsuruko was quite serious. "Urashima broke his leg when he was trying to enter Todai with you for the first time, correct?" she said coolly, waiting for Naru to nod before turning to Motoko. "Up until then, what was your opinion of your chances with him?"

Considering it for a moment, Motoko slowly said, "I was sure that once he went into Todai with Naru, he would be hers forever."

"And when they didn't go in together?"

Motoko's face went a brilliant shade of crimson as she stammered, "I… I thought I might h-have a chance…"

Naru slapped herself in the forehead.

"Doesn't it hurt when you do that?"

"Look," Naru said, leveling an accusing finger at Tsuruko, "even if he is, what's your interest in him? He's my boyfriend, ok?"

Tsuruko looked affronted at the very implication. "I beg your pardon," she said archly. "What are you trying to say? Did you think I'd get him drunk and take advantage of him or something? I'm a married woman!"

"Oh it happens all the time," Naru said, waving a hand dismissively. "Tell me, clearly, why you're here, so I won't have to watch every damn move you make."

The swordswoman shrugged, heading out into the warm afternoon as she mumbled, "I would think it would be obvious. Our school is the God's Cry school of kendo." She shrugged as if this answered everything. "If there is a shito staying with the successor to the school, then it is favorable to everyone involved if he is kept happy."

"So you really mean to serve him," Naru said, shaking her head in amazement as she followed Tsuruko out of the Hinata Sou. "You're nuts."

Tsuruko smiled indulgently. "The wise always appear unbalanced to the uneducated," she said serenely, leaning down to scoop up a bag of marshmallows. "Here, your manager friend must have dropped these when he was coming in."

Naru snatched the back and tossed it over her shoulder, muttering, "Maybe you can line his bed with them to make sure nothing happens to him in the middle of the night."

Behind her, Motoko caught the bag, squeezing them thoughtfully for a moment before murmuring, "Well, they _are_ soft."

She hastily dropped the bag as Naru glared over her shoulder, and together, the three went out into the town of Hinata to find the missing manager.

Continued…

Next chapter: "Can you take your hand out of my pants?" "No, really, it tastes just like candy!" "Wow, she's flexible." "Yeah, but I didn't bite him!" "Aren't you a little old for teddy bears?"

Hawker-748 pre-read this and kept me from getting TOO out of hand… so just imagine what the first draft was like.


	3. Drinks and Drunks

Disclaimer: see part 1

Sister, Sister

Part 3 – Drinks and Drunks

By Random1377

"Never… again…"

Kitsune sagged into one of the seats in the Café Hinata, resting her forehead on the counter as Haruka gave her a contemplative stare. "Had a fun time with the kids, did we?"

Scowling up at her, Kitsune grumbled, "For someone _not_ serving me sake after what I just went through, you're awfully lippy."

Haruka yawned. "Your tab is behind," she said casually. "Can't serve you until you settle up."

"Aww!" Kitsune moaned. "Please? Just this once? I really… really need a drink."

"Just like you really, really needed a drink last week," Haruka said blandly, "and the week before… and the week before. This is the good stuff, you know – I don't serve Thunderbird around here."

Kitsune sighed. "I get it," she mumbled sadly, "no drinky without the cash. Hey," she said suddenly, "you don't need an extra hand around here, do you?"

"Well," Haruka said thoughtfully, "I guess I could always-"

"Excuse me."

The two women looked up as the door to the teahouse banged open and a tall, darkly tanned stranger strode in.

"I don't suppose either of you have seen a rather short man, have you?" she asked. "About yea high, with glasses, kind of twitchy – looks like he's just done something wrong?"

Kitsune and Haruka exchanged a glance before coming to the same conclusion.

"Keitaro."

"Ah," the woman at the door said, "so you know him." Looking around, she snapped her fingers. "This must be the Hinata teahouse Kaolla told me about, so that would make you," she pointed to Haruka, "Aunty Urashima, am I right?"

Haruka pursed her lips, rubbing her cigarette out in the ashtray as if suggesting there was something (or someone) else she would rather be rubbing out. "I prefer, 'Haruka,'" she said coolly, "and Keitaro's not here right now."

"How disappointing," the woman said gloomily. "Any idea where I might find him?"

"Well," Haruka said casually, "you might follow the other three women that just went looking for him five minutes before you got here… they might have found him by now. They went up the hill to the south."

The woman shrugged. "I think I'll just wait here for a while, if that's ok," she said brightly. "Do you have a bathroom? It's been a while since I left my home country, and I've been pretty focused on my goal, so I haven't really had much time to… well, you get the picture."

Haruka gestured to the back of the teahouse, where the tall stranger politely excused herself. As soon as the woman was out of sight, Kitsune leaned across the counter and whispered, "What the hell is going on?"

"Beats me," Haruka shrugged. "Naru came in a little while ago looking for Keitaro, and when I said I hadn't seen him, she just cursed and left. When I looked out the window, I saw her running down the hill to the north with Motoko and her sister."

"Wait," Kitsune said. "Down the hill? You just told that woman they went up the hill – to the south."

This observation drew another shrug from Keitaro's aunt. "I don't know her from Adam," she said dismissively. "Why would I help her?"

Kitsune grinned. "Well, she did mention Kaolla by name," she said lightly. "She might be a cousin or something like that."

"That might be true, but-"

For the second time in five minutes, the front door to the teahouse banged open.

"Where is she?"

Haruka and Kitsune stared, open-mouthed, as Kanako stalked into the teahouse wearing what amounted to two paper grocery bags worth of covering – and seemed, actually, to be made _of_ two paper grocery bags.

"Where is that _slut?_"

Intuitively grasping who the slut in question was, Haruka said, "Don't go trashing my place. She's in the can."

Kanako strode over to the bathroom door. Scowling deeply, she growled and pounded the wall next to her. "There's no one there," she reported through clenched teeth. "The window in the back is open, too… damn, she's slippery!"

"Must've heard her coming," Kitsune mused, keeping her voice low as Kanako disappeared into the bathroom. "What's this all about?"

When Kanako reappeared, she had regained her aloof, detached attitude – a considerable feat, Kitsune thought, since the girl was wearing sacks for underwear. "Do you have a shirt I can borrow?" Kanako asked calmly. "Mine got torn."

"Not if you're going to go chase after that girl and get into a fight in it," Haruka snorted. "Go get something from the Hinata Sou – maybe something that doesn't tear as easily."

As the girl colored and started for the door, Kitsune grabbed her arm. "Hang on a sec," she said lightly. "Sit down… have a drink… tell us what the hell is going on."

"I'm not much of a drinker," Kanako said doubtfully. "What's that she's pouring? Is it strong?"

"Of course not," Kitsune said, waving a hand dismissively at the watermelon schnapps Haruka was pouring into a glass. "It's sweet."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, really, it tastes just like candy!"

"Well," Kanako said, "maybe just one…"

Five shots and one tanked Kanako later, Kitsune knew all she needed to know about the situation.

( 0 0 0 )

Keitaro was starting to feel like a fugitive – or perhaps a little past the 'starting to' phase. _Everyone's gone crazy,_ he thought, peering through the foliage at the back of the Hinata Sou to see if anyone was inside the dorm. _What the hell is a shito anyway?_

He thought he remembered hearing the name in an old cartoon he used to watch, but couldn't remember what it meant. Not that it really mattered that much, though, since (in his mind anyway) even if he was one, it didn't explain why Motoko's sister was trying nail him to the wall or why Su's sister was trying to just nail him.

_Now if Amalla was built like Kaolla, it would be easier to resist,_ he thought, deciding that the Hinata Sou was empty enough for him to sneak in and hide, _but she's got those legs… and that chest… and those lips… and… God, Naru would kill me just for thinking all of this._

Tensing his body to slip out of the tree line and into the Hinata Sou, Keitaro crouched low, counting the number of steps he would be in the open, and therefore visible to any insane swordswomen or passing, sex-crazed foreigners that may have been watching.

He could not keep himself from shrieking like a girl as something heavy dropped out of the trees and landed squarely on his shoulders.

"Found you!"

"Ahh! Don't kill me! Don't rape me!"

Keitaro figured by yelling both, he was covered.

A delighted, childish giggle kept him from running screaming into a large oak tree directly to his left, but only just barely.

_Childish?_ he thought. _Neither one of them is childish…_

"K-Kaolla…?"

Still clinging to his back, the girl used Keitaro's shoulders as a brace and leaned forward until her face was hanging upside-down in front of his. "Do I get to chose?"

"Huh?" Keitaro was too relieved to come up with something more eloquent.

"I don't want to kill you," Kaolla said brightly, "so I guess-"

"Wait – I wasn't saying you should do either one, I was saying _don't_ do either one!"

Kaolla's smile only faded a little before regenerating its original wattage. "Well," she said brightly, "the day's not over yet. So what are you doing hiding in the bushes, Keitaro? Did you squeeze Motoko's-"

"I didn't squeeze anyone's anything," Keitaro cut in quickly, finally succeeding in shrugging Kaolla off of his shoulders. "Now can you not make so much noise? I don't want anyone to hear me."

"Oh I see," the girl cried, pounding her fist into her open palm. "We're being trepidacious! Secretive! Furtive! Crafty! Sneaky! Sly! We're-"

"_Trying to be quiet!"_

Keitaro slapped a hand over his mouth as a face suddenly appeared at one of the Hinata Sou's windows. Thinking fast, he shoved Kaolla in front of him and ducked down low, hiding behind her… which, needless to say, took a lot of ducking. In fact, by the time he was confident that she was blocking anyone from seeing him, he was practically curled into a ball behind her.

"Are they still looking?" he whispered hoarsely, thinking that of all the residents, only Kitsune and Shinobu would be safe.

"Uh huh," Kaolla said, waving happily at the house. "And they're coming out to see… oh! Hey, Keitaro, it's my sis-"

There was a soft gust of air behind Kaolla's back, and when she turned around to see what was going on, she found only a few swirling leaves to show that Keitaro had ever been there.

( 0 0 0 )

An animal being chased by a predator will naturally seek higher ground. Furthermore, the instinct to flee will lead a prey creature in the fastest path away from danger, then, once a safe distance has been reached, back to the den. So when Keitaro ran into the woods to escape from Amalla, eventually circled back around to the other side of the building and crept inside to find a good hiding place.

What he did not know, of course, was that Kitsune watched a lot of Animal Planet.

"Hiya."

"Gah! Kitsune!" Keitaro gasped. "Don't… don't do that!"

Kitsune looked the beleaguered manager up and down… and grinned.

"Two months rent."

"I… I beg your pardon?"

Holding out her hand, Kitsune clarified, "Two months rent… and you can hide in my room."

"_Huh_?"

"It's perfect," Kitsune said gleefully. "No one would suspect lil' old _me_ of hiding you, and I'm a little behind, sooooo… you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

"Hey, we're home!"

Keitaro paled as Naru's voice rang out from the foyer.

"Unless you'd rather talk it out with them," Kitsune drawled.

Biting his bottom lip, Keitaro glanced towards the stairs, but he frowned as he felt a (with Kitsune, anyway) familiar feeling.

"Can you take your hand out of my pants?"

Looking innocent, Kitsune quickly retrieved her hand, looking at it as if it belonged to someone else as it slowly unwrapped itself from around his wallet.

"Sorry, she coughed, "old habits and all that.

"…n't know," Motoko's voice muttered, sounding dangerously close, "maybe he is – why don't you check and I'll look up here."

"Better think quick," Kitsune mumbled, grabbing Keitaro's hand. "Come on, let's hide in my room until Motoko's gone past, then I'll come out and ask what all the-"

"Nah, we'll just check up there with you – he wouldn't hide in the kitchen anyway."

Kitsune and Keitaro stared at each other in horror, and before Keitaro could even blink, Kitsune was shoving him into Naru's room. "This is closer," she hissed, "Naru and Motoko's sister are coming up the back stairs – we're trapped!"

Darting into the room, they slid the door shut as quietly as they could and backed up against the wall.

"He's not in Shinobu's room," Motoko's voice reported, "and Kitsune's is locked. I knocked, but she didn't answer."

"Haruka said she was in the tea house about ten minutes before we got back," Naru's voice replied. "Kaolla's around here somewhere, but I don't know where Shinobu is."

"I think I heard the dryer going," Tsuruko observed, "does she do a lot of laundry?"

"Most of it," Naru replied. "Let's go ask her if she's seen Keitaro."

Kitsune and Keitaro heaved a similtanious sigh of relief.

"Oh, wait a sec," Naru said suddenly, "gotta get something out of my room."

"Damn it," Kitsune said, quickly slapping a hand over Keitaro's mouth, "they're coming in here."

Thinking fast, she shoved the startled young man under Naru's covered table, holding him up against her and keeping him from screaming with fear as the door slid open. From where they were, they could not see Naru enter the room, but they heard her footsteps… and a moment later, the footsteps of Motoko and Tsuruko following her in.

"Aren't you a little old for teddy bears?" Tsuruko commented evenly. "I mean, you're what, nineteen, twenty?"

Immediately – by instinct – Keitaro's eyes shot in the direction of Naru's dresser. _Funny,_ he thought absently, _I've seen white, and red, and black, and even purple, but I thought only Shinobu had teddy bear-_

"It's a Liddo-kun," Naru said archly, "and it's very important to me."

_Ohhh_… Keitaro thought, _never mind._

"And who invited you in anyway," Naru demanded. "Wait outside."

"A moment," Tsuruko said calmly. "There is something…"

Keitaro's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as Tsuruko's blade abruptly punched through the table and landed squarely between his back and Kitsune's stomach. Though the girl behind him didn't speak above a whisper, Keitaro could feel her breath puffing against the back of his neck as she gasped, "Son of a bitch!"

Tsuruko may have heard this had Naru not simultaneously shouted, "What the hell do you think you're _doing_?"

"Someone is here with us," the woman explained.

"Well that doesn't give you the right to put a hole in my table!" Naru exploded. "Get out of here before you ruin something else!"

"Under the table," Tsuruko murmured, seeming to not hear Naru's outraged cry. "I can sense… someone's ki. It's-"

"It's Keitaro!"

Keitaro could hear a pair of startled gasps at the sudden, intrusive announcement, and he barely contained a groan as he thought, _Kaolla_…

"He's under there," the young girl was saying. "My Keitaro detector says so."

"That kid needs a new hobby," Kitsune muttered, clearly resigned to the fact that the gig was up. "Let's just-"

"You."

"Ahh," a voice Kitsune did not recognize – but one that Keitaro knew very well, in spite of his limited exposure to it – replied. "I had not expected you to be here, Aoyama. I knew your younger sister was here, but to see you again after all this time… how entertaining."

"You two… know each other?"

Naru's uncertain question was definitely the one on everyone's mind.

"Indeed," Tsuruko said coolly. "When I was first seeing my husband, this… woman tried to take him from me to learn the secrets of his sword school."

"Oh, you're not still angry about that, are you?" the newcomer asked dismissively. "That was so long ago, and besides, he chose you in the end, didn't he? You should be happy I didn't mark him as my own and make him come home with me."

"You did mark him!" Tsuruko shot back. "In several rather prominent places!"

"Well so did you," the other woman replied, "in your way, of course… the gifts, the ring – you staked your claim very clearly and-"

"Yeah, but I didn't bite him!"

"Well I must admit that I got a bit carried away, but-"

"Defend yourself!"

_She's really mad,_ Keitaro thought as the sword was suddenly yanked out of the table. _I wonder where Amalla bit him…?_

Deciding that it would be best not to ask, Keitaro tried to think of a way to get out from under the table without drawing attention to himself. He would not have to worry about a distraction, he thought, since Tsuruko, at that moment, let out a deafening war cry and flung herself at her opponent.

"Wow, she's flexible," Naru commented, giving rise to several rather vivid images of what might be happening in Keitaro's mind. "Hey, hey damn it, don't do that in my – oh, that was my favorite lamp! Come on, knock it off!"

From the sounds of the fight, Keitaro decided it must have been one hell of a duel, though for the life of him, he could not imagine what Amalla was defending herself with – or what kind of training she had that allowed her to repel Tsuruko's attacks.

_She must be good,_ he thought, _hell, to get past Kanako she would have to be good – to hold her own against Tsuruko, she must be really good!_

Keitaro's eyes widened as the woman in question abruptly dropped to the ground and rolled under the table, ending up with her nose less than four inches from his. They stared at each other for several moments, both too stunned to speak. Then, slowly, a smile spread over Amalla's features, and she leaned closer, knowing that Keitaro had nowhere to run.

A moment before their lips met, she whispered three words in her lowest, most seductive voice, sending shivers strong enough that Kitsune felt them running up and down Keitaro's spine.

"I found you…"

Continued…

Next chapter: "That can't be good for his lower back…" "How many licks?" "Oh don't worry, I won't make him scream too loud." "She'll get a ticket for indecency!" "Shinobu, you've just got to sleep with him."

Hawker-748 pre-read, which is good cuz I messed up a bunch in this chapter. Heh.


	4. Slip of the Tongue

Disclaimer: see part 1

Sister, Sister

Part 4 – Slip of the Tongue

By Random1377

The dictionary holds the following definitions for Asphyxiation: n 1: the condition of being deprived of oxygen (as by having breathing stopped. _v._ _tr._ To cause asphyxia in; smother. _v._ _intr._ To undergo asphyxia; suffocate.

A perfect example of this phenomena would be to have a woman, perhaps a foreigner with white hair and blue eyes, trap you up against one of your dormitory's tenants and push her tongue into your mouth right after you've gasped in shock at having her face-to-face with you in the first place.

Keitaro squirmed as his airway was blocked by what felt like a rather talented, cinnamon flavored eel. He had difficulty thinking of it as a mere tongue, as the woman in possession of it used it so skillfully to explore the roof of his mouth, seemingly intent on reaching his tonsils as her voluptuous body molded itself against him on one side while Kitsune's not-insignificant assets were pushed against the other.

This might have been a good definition of Heaven, had Keitaro been able to breathe… and had Naru not been present.

"Get your lips off of him, you _slut!_"

_Now that's strange,_ Keitaro thought as Amalla was suddenly yanked off of him, _this table has a cover on it… how did she knew what was going on?_

The answer came in the form of a murmur from Kitsune, who had been close enough to see everything that had happened.

"Damn, she's loud…"

Keitaro – who had been too involved in memorizing the texture of the woman's tongue – had not noticed the sound she had made… which he would later come to find out was somewhere between a growl and a moan.

He didn't need to wonder how Naru had known what was going on after that.

Keitaro flinched, instinctively pulling back against Kitsune at Naru's commanding shout of, "Come out of there right now!"

"Get me out of here and I'll give you _three_ months," he begged in a soft whisper. "Come on, Kitsune – three months, what do you s-"

"Keitaro," Kitsune snorted, "You could make it a year and I wouldn't get between you and Naru right now." Pulling away from him, she planted her foot squarely in the middle of his back. "You're on your own, kid."

So saying, she shoved the unfortunate manager out into the open, where he found himself looking up at a rough circle of Kaolla, Naru, Motoko, Tsuruko, Naru, and Amalla – who, he noticed, looked very uncomfortable… probably because Naru had her in a chokehold.

"Umm… hi…"

"Alright," Naru growled, her eyes blazing as she glared down at Keitaro, "Someone better start talking some sense in this dump or I am really gonna start getting pissed off!"

Tsuruko, who had fought valiantly against Amalla mere moments ago, looked a bit taken aback that Naru had subdued the dark-skinned woman with such ease. Regaining some of her composure, she cleared her throat and said, "I've explained it – your manager is a Shito, and-"

"And my future husband," Amalla cut in, finally getting Naru's arm away from her throat long enough to talk. "Isn't that right, darling?"

"Well, I, er… I've only just met you, and-"

Amalla's eyes were twinkling as she cut in, "Your little shito there seems to like the idea."

"Ah, PERVERT!"

Seeing what Amalla was talking about, Naru quite literally tossed the woman aside and lashed out, kicking Keitaro directly in the chest and sending him flying across the room. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you looked at things from Keitaro's point of view) her aim was particularly good that day, and her kick knocked the unlucky manager through the hole in the floor and down into his own room.

"That can't be good for his lower back…"

"Shut up," Naru snapped, leveling a finger at Tsuruko. "And get out! I don't care if he's a messenger from God himself, you people don't belong here!" Hurrying to the hole, she peered down. "Great," she muttered, "and now he's gone again – this is just super!"

"He's heading downstairs."

Everyone looked at Kaolla, who held up her Keitaro-tracking device with a huge smile.

"Whoever gets to him first-"

Amalla never finished her sentence as Naru abruptly reached out and slapped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up," she growled. "He's not a prize, he's my boyfriend. We are all going, calmly, down to find him, and then you are going to apologize to him, and leave, is that clear?"

Tsuruko stepped forward. "I would like to propose that-"

"No proposals," Naru snapped. "No deals, no arrangements, no compromises… no matter whether you're right or wrong about what he is, he's _mine_. Now let's go."

As the others filed out of the room, Motoko stepped closer to Naru and whispered, "I had no idea you were so possessive."

Naru shrugged. "We haven't been going out that long," she whispered back. "I don't… what if he decides he likes her better? I have to stake my claim now or I might lose him again."

Motoko nodded. "We won't let that happen," she said, offering her hand to Naru. "No matter what happens, Urashima belongs with one of us."

Blinking, Naru said, "You mean with me."

"Er, right, of course," Motoko quickly agreed, "Now let's go find him."

As they went in search of Keitaro once more, Naru decided that she should take the lead.

( 0 0 0 )

Shinobu hummed to herself as she folded the clean laundry, making neat little stacks on the laundry room table and pausing to stretch her back as she surveyed the large pile of dirty clothes at her feet. "This'll never get done," she lamented, her face bright in spite of the work ahead of her.

It was tedious work, but it was fairly easy, and besides – it gave her a chance to be alone and think about Keitaro, the man of her dreams. Sure, some might question her tastes and ideals, but one look at her adoring eyes when he entered the room would dispel any doubts that Shinobu was head over heels for the Hinata Sou's manager.

"Shinobu!"

"Ah!"

Unfortunately, being that caught up in thinking about her sempai made Shinobu oblivious to her surroundings, so when Naru called her name and put a hand on her shoulder, Shinobu screamed and threw her hands in the air, knocking laundry everywhere.

"N-Naru," she gasped, putting a hand over her racing heart. "What's wrong? You look worried."

"Where's Keitaro?" Naru asked, shooting an irritated glance to her right as Motoko's sister Tsuruko entered the room and tentatively poked at the clean laundry with the tip of her sword sheath. "It's important that we find him, Shinobu, have you seen him at all today?"

"Keitaro?" Shinobu echoed, blinking as Motoko, Kaolla, and a tall, dark-skinned woman with a striking resemblance to Kaolla filed into the laundry room, making things very cramped. "I, umm… can you not poke at those, miss? I just folded them."

"Sister," Motoko murmured, "if he was hiding under the clothes, I would think Shinobu would have said something."

"Mmm, good point," Tsuruko mumbled, folding her arms and gazing speculatively at Shinobu. "Unless she's trying to hide him."

Shinobu took a frightened step backward, but Naru waved a hand dismissively and said, "Ignore her, Shinobu, just answer the question – have you seen Keitaro today, or not?"

"Shinobu," the dark-skinned woman said suddenly, "She's the one that's in love with your manager, isn't she?" she asked, turning to Kaolla for confirmation. "Tsk, such a shame… you need to be bolder, if you want to win his affections, little girl."

"Umm, Keitaro's with Naru," Shinobu said uncomfortably, taking another step back as Naru glared at the woman.

"But how strong is that bond?" the woman insisted. "Why, I'll bet if you made a decisive move, he'd be yours for the asking."

"Watch it, missy," Naru grumbled, brandishing a fist menacingly. "Or I'll-"

"Decisive?" Shinobu blurted. "What do you mean, 'decisive'?"

Putting an arm around the younger girl, the dark-skinned woman leaned forward and declared, "Shinobu, you've just got to sleep with him."

"Alright, that does it!"

Shinobu gaped as the woman, who had been in her personal space less than a moment before, was sent sailing out of the room.

"Shinobu," Naru growled, cracking her knuckles as the woman picked herself up and dusted herself off with a devil-may-care grin, "have you, or haven't you seen Keitaro?"

"Y-yes," Shinobu squeaked, taking one last step backward as all eyes turned to her, and finding that her back was literally against the wall. "About five minutes ago he ran down the stairs and out the front door. I think he-"

"Ah-ha!" a triumphant voice cried from down the hall. "Wait for me, brother!"

Everyone gaped as Kanako – looking rather drunk – burst out of a nearby broom closet and bolted for the door. "Aw come on," Naru groaned. "She'll get a ticket for indecency!"

Shinobu could only nod as Kanako's paper bag covered derrière vanished around a corner. "Yeah…"

Motoko, Tsuruko, Naru, Kaolla, and the dark-skinned woman gave a collective sigh, then filed back out of the laundry room, racing out of the Hinata Sou as Shinobu stared with wide eyes at the door.

After a few moments of quiet, Kitsune ambled into the room. "Hey," she said smoothly, "have you seen Keitaro?"

Silently, Shinobu pointed towards the front door.

"Interesting," Kitsune mumbled, leaning against the wall for a moment before suddenly dropping to the floor and driving her hand into the pile of dirty laundry on the floor. "But I really meant have you seen him lately."

Yanking hard, the gray-haired woman dragged a struggling, terrified-looking Keitaro out from under the pile of clothes, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could scream as Shinobu nervously twisted her skirt in both hands.

"How… how did you know?"

Kitsune grinned as Keitaro saw that they were alone and began to calm down. "You hate messes," she said calmly. "The day you leave a pile of clothes on the floor is the day you drop dead of embarrassment. It's always in baskets or on the table, and it's always organized by lights and darks, so a pile of mixed up clothes on the floor was the biggest red flag in the whole world… to someone that knows you."

"Sorry, Sempai," Shinobu said awkwardly, shuffling her feet as Keitaro – still unsure of Kitsune's intentions – bowed his head in defeat.

"Come on," Kitsune said craftily. "Let's go to my room."

"Your room?" Shinobu gasped. "Wh… why?"

Kitsune grinned. "Oh don't worry; I won't make him scream too loud."

( 0 0 0 )

Naru paused at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the Hinata Sou, holding her side as she tried to catch her breath. "She's quick," she muttered as Motoko jogged back to make sure she was ok. "How can she run that fast when she's drunk?"

"Must be the lack of clothes," Motoko theorized, shaking her head as the woman in question – three blocks away by that point – bounced off of a light post like a pinball and careened down an alley and out of sight. "Sister will catch up with her soon enough."

"Good," Naru muttered, "if she keeps chasing that idiot, it'll give us a chance to go back and see what Shinobu was hiding under that pile of clothes."

Motoko nodded. "Noticed that too, did you?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly as Kaolla and Amalla (both laughing with glee) turned down a different alley, clearly believing this would give them some kind of advantage in the 'chase.' "I'm glad you didn't say anything."

"Are you kidding?" Naru snorted. "If they knew he was in that room with us the whole time, it would have been like a feeding frenzy. What is this all about, anyway?"

Leaning against a nearby tree, Motoko scratched her chin. "Those letters," she mused. "When Amalla showed us hers, I noticed that the handwriting was the same as in Tsuruko's. I think, as farfetched as it sounds, that someone's setting Keitaro up."

Naru took one last deep breath, letting it out slowly as she said, "Setting him up for what, though? It's not like he has a lot of money to extort, and he's too dopey to have offended someone enough for them to want to kill him… so who would go this far to make everyone think he's some type of angel?"

"I have no idea," Motoko admitted, "but the letters have had their desired effect – people are definitely interested in Keitaro now."

"Interested," Naru muttered. "_Too_ interested, you mean. What was up with that tramp telling Shinobu to sleep with Keitaro, anyway? Is that all she thinks about?"

Motoko cleared her throat, blushing faintly as she replied, "Haven't… you ever thought about it?"

Shooting her a suspicious glance, Naru grumbled, "I'm not answering that, and before you say anything, I don't want to know if _you_ have or not… I'm perfectly happy with my own illusions."

"But you have to be careful," Motoko said thoughtfully, "because if all you have are illusions…"

Naru bit her bottom lip as the swordswoman trailed off. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said abruptly. "Keitaro's with me. He's happy, I'm happy, everyone else is happy… I'm not letting Kaolla's sister, your sister, or anyone else's sister get in the way of that. Talking about this stuff now, while he's hiding under a pile of stinky dishrags and underwear, is like arguing about how many licks it takes."

Motoko blinked. "How many licks?"

"You know," Naru said, "how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop."

Coughing into her fist, Motoko averted her face. "Oh, that. Right…"

Naru ground her teeth, wondering if there was any Su blood in the Aoyama line. "Let's get back to the Sou," she muttered. "With any luck those idiots will be running around town for a good hour."

Together, she and Motoko started back up the stairs, completely missing the stealthy moves of a third party paralleling their steps from the trees on the side of the walkway leading up to the inn.

The mastermind behind the entire affair… was in their midst.

To be concluded…

Next chapter: "What are you, stupid?" "Keep it in your pants, hussy!" "Oh man, that'll leave a mark…" "Seriously? At the same time?" "I doubt he'd want to be buried in that." "Really? You mean… DEAD, dead?"


	5. Wanted Dead or…

Disclaimer: see part 1

Sister, Sister

Part 5 – Wanted Dead or…

By Random1377

"Are you sure this will work?"

Kitsune continued tugging at the waistband of the jeans she was trying to force onto Keitaro's body. "You need to be more trusting," she grunted. "Come on, haven't you ever seen _Some Like It Hot_?"

Keitaro bowed his head.

"My bra is pinching me…"

"Shut up and hold your breath, I've almost got it – there!"

Kitsune stepped back and surveyed her handiwork.

"How do I look?" Keitaro asked, turning a bit blue as he tried to get a decent breath into his lungs.

"Like a sausage," Kitsune replied immediately. "Here… let's go with the skirt instead."

Ketiaro, who was simply thankful to be getting out of the purgatorial pants, could only nod. "Hur…ry…" he gasped, fumbling with the zipper. "Losing… consciousness…"

"Alright, alright," Kitsune mumbled, tugging the jeans off of the man, "here, let's try-"

Abruptly, her door flew open and Naru and Motoko slipped in, took one look at where Kitsune was kneeling in front of a bra-clad Keitaro – with his pants still bunched in her hands and pulled down around his ankles – and turned back around, leaving without a word.

"Oh come on – it isn't what it looks like!"

The door opened again and the two came back in the room. "Get this skirt on," Naru said quickly, picking up on Kitsune's idea immediately. "You'll be able to run better."

"See, that's what I was thinking," Kitsune exclaimed. "We disguise him as a girl – granted, kind of an ugly girl-"

"Hey!"

"-and once we get him out of town, we can-"

From the floor below, the sound of the front door banging open reached them, accompanied by the sound of Tsuruko's voice exclaiming, "…ly is an amazing device, Miss Su. Now which floor is he on?"

Leaving the skirt in Naru's hands, Keitaro made a break for it, sprinting into the hallway in nothing but a black lace bra and his tighty whities. Rounding a corner, he nearly ran straight into a very startled Tsuruko. Veering left, he ran, instead, into a support beam, bounced off, and made a beeline for the stairs leading to the roof.

"Oh man, that'll leave a mark…"

"Let's go," Naru said, ignoring Kitsune's commentary as she grabbed Motoko by the hand. "We've got to save him from… from _her_!"

The 'her' in question was a very determined looking Amalla, who was hot on Keitaro's heels, her face split in such a large grin that Naru was certain the woman would have been happy to continue the chase for another day.

Or week.

Like a herd of buffalo, Motoko, Amlla, Su, Motoko, Kitsune, Naru, and Tsuruko raced up the stairs, finally cornering Keitaro on the rooftop. As everyone surged forward, Naru took the lead and spun around to face the others, spreading her arms out wide and taking a deep breath to scream a single, thundering order.

"_Enough!"_

Shocked into stillness, the entire group came to a halt, dust swirling around their feet as Naru glared at each and every one of them.

"That…is… enough…!" she declared fiercely. "You two are acting like little kids! Running all over the damn place over a couple of badly written letters? Get a goddamn grip on yourselves, would you? You don't even know _who_ sent them, let alone-"

"I sent them."

Everyone whipped around as a girl of about twelve stepped onto the rooftop.

Su leveled a finger at the girl. "You're… you're…!"

She blinked, letting her hand fall to her side.

"Wait, who are you?"

"She's my sister."

Everyone whipped _back_ around to stare incredulously at Naru. "Your… sister?" Keitaro echoed. "I didn't even know you had a sister."

Naru shrugged. "We didn't know about Kanako until she appeared," she pointed out. "Oh, and speaking of Kanako, there was a message on the answering machine from the police… she's in the drunk tank."

"Super…"

"But that's not important right now," Naru went on, staring her younger sister down. "What is important, Mei, is-"

Abruptly, Su spoke up.

"Are you here to make out with Keitaro too?"

"What are you, stupid?" the girl snapped. "Why would I want to make out with _him_?"

"I can think of one reason," Amalla mused, glancing significantly at Keitaro, "one, nice, satisfying re-"

"Keep it in your pants, hussy!" Naru interrupted. "Mei, start talking!"

"Yes," Tsuruko agreed, "an explanation would be very nice at this point."

"Didn't you get my letters?" Mei demanded. "They explained everything – he's a shibito!"

Amalla and Tsuruko exchanged a glance. "A what?"

"Shibito," Mei repeated, stamping one foot on the rooftop, "living dead – he's a zombie, a demon, a monster from beyond the grave!"

As one, the two older women pulled out their letters. "Mine says shito," Amalla reported.

"As does mine," Tsuruko confirmed, holding the letter out for Mei to see. "Shi-to."

Mei inspected the letter… closed one eye… bit her bottom lip… counted the syllables represented by the characters on the page on her fingertips… and cursed under her breath.

"Damn," she muttered, "forgot the bi…"

Abruptly, everyone watching the exchange fell on their faces.

"Mei!" Naru shouted, recovering from the shock enough to realize that the trouble was not over. "You have got a _lot_ of explaining to do!"

Defiantly, Mei planted her fists on her hips. "No I don't," she countered, glaring up at her sister as Keitaro quietly crawled towards the stairs. "That… thing you call a manager is a demon from Hell! How else could he survive all the beatings you guys lay down on him?"

Naru blinked, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. "Er, we don't beat him… that much," she mumbled lamely. "And he-"

"I've been watching."

"Huh?"

"I've been watching this place," Mei said bluntly. "I came to visit you a few weeks ago, and I saw this guy," she jerked a thumb in Keitaro's direction, "come flying off the roof, bounce down the stairs, and roll all the way into town."

"I remember that day," Motoko said thoughtfully. "If I'm not mistaken, Keitaro came into the hot springs when we were all in there, and-"

"You're missing the point," Mei cut in, stamping her foot once more, "no human could survive a fall like that – so I decided to watch to see what my sister had gotten herself into, and in two weeks I saw him survive at least six falls that would kill a normal person." She looked around as everyone simply gaped at her. "Are you people thick?" she shrieked. "Don't you see what's happening here? He's a _demon_!"

Keitaro, who had been eyeing the stairs longingly, protested, "I am not!"

"Oh, I'd expect _you_ to say that," Mei retorted snidely, leveling a finger at the flustered manager. "It won't matter, though, I've got holy water, a silver knife, and a wooden stake – and I'm using all three, just to be sure! And if that's not enough, I brought garlic and a cross, so just hold still and this'll all be over in a few seconds."

"Hey!" Keitaro cried, taking a cautionary step back as the girl produced all of the aforementioned implements of undead slaying from a rather cute bear-shaped backpack –the definition of 'juxtaposition,' if ever there was one. "Hey, this isn't funny anymore! Just because I'm a little more resilient than the average guy doesn't mean I'm a zombie!"

"Zombie, werewolf, vampire, demon, whatever," Mei mumbled, holding up her stake as she took a step towards Keitaro. "Doesn't matter what you are, I've got it covered."

Keitaro took another step back. "Tsuruko," he said shakily, "I thought you were going to protect me?"

"I never said that," Tsuruko replied calmly. "If you are a heavenly messenger, then you will be protected by the Almighty. My offer was of servitude."

Taking another step back from the advancing Narusegawa, Keitaro said, "What about you, Amalla? You can't marry a corpse."

Amalla shrugged. "That's true," she said, "but I don't _want_ to marry a demon, so the way I figure it – if you're a shito, she won't be able to kill you, and I'll marry you… and if you're a shibito, I wouldn't want to marry you anyway, and she's doing the world a favor by getting rid of you."

"This is crazy!" Keitaro complained, taking another step back, "you're all-"

"Watch out for the edge!"

The warning came too late. Taking a final backward step, Keitaro pitched back over the edge of the Hinata Sou's roof, his arms pinwheeling frantically as he tried to regain his balance, but it was a lost cause. Instead of screaming as he fell, the unfortunate manager simply closed his eyes, and everyone distinctly heard him utter a single word as he vanished over the side.

"Figures."

There was a moment of silence, followed by a crunch that made everyone present – even Mei – wince. Walking to the side, they all peered over, finding Keitaro lying sprawled on the sidewalk in front of the Hinata Sou.

"See?" Mei said, "Any second he'll get up and start running again – and I'll have to chase him down all over again!"

Together, they watched.

"Any second now…"

From below, Shinobu appeared, walking slowly out of the front of the Hinata Sou and approaching the prone manager. Reaching his side, she sank down to her knees and put her fingers against the side of his neck.

Abruptly, she jerked her fingers away, looking up at the assembled crowd on the roof to announce in a broken voice, "He's… he's dead!"

Mei blinked. "Really? You mean… DEAD, dead?"

"He's _dead!"_

As the young girl threw herself over the body and began to sob, Mei snorted and pursed her lips. "He'll get up," she said confidently, "you can't kill a demon that easily."

"I don't think he's getting up this time," Tsuruko said grimly, glancing over the edge as Kitsune pulled Naru into her arms and murmured soft, consoling words into her ear. "It really is too bad."

"Yes," Amalla agreed, nodding sagely. "I doubt he'd want to be buried in that."

"He'll get up," Mei insisted. "Just wait!"

When the ambulance arrived, and the two paramedics slowly shook their heads and loaded Keitaro into the back, however, Mei realized that she just might have made a mistake.

"Oops…"

( 0 0 0 )

The funeral was a tearful affair. Neither Naru nor Shinobu would leave Keitaro's coffin, making the viewing of the body all but impossible as they sobbed and complained that it was not fair – it just was not fair. The undertaker, a handsome man with dark hair and square-framed glasses, lamented the early loss of life and advised all present to live each day as if it were his or her last.

Services were held in the living room of the Hinata Sou, at the insistence of all of the tenants, since it was – as Shinobu put it – the place he truly belonged.

Amalla, Mei, and Tsuruko held back, feeling very much like the outsiders they were as the few friends who had been able to make it passed through to give their respects, offering them awkwardly around Naru's sobbing back.

"I was so sure," Mei muttered as the other two nodded in agreement. "I mean, come on – the guy was practically launched into orbit a hundred times!"

"It does look like he's just sleeping," Amalla observed, "but the paramedics declared him dead at the scene, so…"

"I suppose this means your country won't get its successor," Tsuruko mused softly. "Pity, really… I wouldn't have minded serving under the most powerful house in MolMol _and_ a heavenly messenger – it would have been quite a coup for the school."

Turning to the other woman, Amalla said, "Wouldn't your husband have been upset with you traveling to another country?"

Tsuruko waved a hand dismissively. "He wouldn't have even noticed I was gone," she muttered. "Hell, he's probably playing video games right now and wondering why I haven't cooked dinner yet. He's a sweet man… but he's entirely clueless."

Dropping the elder Aoyama a wink, Amalla whispered, "That's why I wouldn't have minded being married to Keitaro."

"I see your logic," Tsuruko said, smiling as the dark-skinned woman grinned broadly. "I suppose with everything that's happened, we should put our differences aside… agreed?"

"Agreed."

The two shook hands as Mei whispered, once more, "I was so sure…"

"I want to thank everyone for coming," Haruka said formally. "Now if you could excuse us, the tenants would like a few moments of privacy before the interment."

Amalla, Tsuruko, and Mei nodded, filing out with the rest of the visitors and sparing only one backward glance before leaving the Hinata Sou. For several minutes, the only sound in the living room was the continued sobbing of the residents and the retreating footsteps of the guests.

Finally, when it seemed that all was calm… Ketiaro's right eye popped open, glancing around as best it could as the man quietly muttered, "Are they gone yet?"

"Shh," Naru muttered, turning the volume down on the SobSound 2000 Su had made just for this occasion, "they might still be around somewhere."

"Nah," Kitsune yawned, stretching expansively as she came back into the room, "they all went down the stairs together… we're clear."

There was a collective sigh of relief as the ushers (Motoko's friends from school) finally took their leave and the undertaker screwed a cigarette into his lips. "All this fake death really makes you think about life, eh?" he observed. "Hey Haruka, maybe you and I should do something to reaffirm the joys of-"

"Oh give it a rest," Haruka mumbled, "can't you see we're at a funeral?" Lighting her own cigarette, she took a deep pull and asked, "Was all of this really necessary?"

"Well," Keitaro replied, sitting up in his coffin and using the handkerchief tucked in his tuxedo pocket to wipe the pale makeup off of his face, "Kitsune and I figured this was the only way to get rid of them. It was pretty tricky, especially getting everything together on such short notice."

"Yeah," Haruka observed, "how you ever got those two friends of yours to pose as paramedics is beyond me – and where did they get the ambulance? That was pure genius."

Keitaro grinned. "Shirai and Haitani love cosplay," he said happily, "and Shirai's uncle owns a used car lot. If you'd looked closely at the ambulance, you would have seen that one of the flashers was broken and the paint on all of the logos was still wet. The timing was tricky, though," he admitted. "We barely had time to cook up this plan and tell Shinobu about it – and if Kitsune hadn't been upstairs to whisper what was really happening, one of you guys would have come down and ruined the whole thing."

Everyone nodded, freely admitting that Keitaro's plan was quite masterful.

Haruka tapped her ashes into an ashtray on the end table before commenting, "You realize that news of this will get around, though, don't you? You'll have to pretend you're dead now."

"Nah," Keitaro shrugged. "Mei's in junior high and never visits – how would she ever find out, and who's she going to tell that would contradict her? Amalla lives overseas, so even if she tells everyone she knows, it won't affect me. I just need to keep my eyes open so Tsuruko doesn't spot me in the streets or something, and since she lives in Kyoto, I doubt that'll be too hard."

"I'll send her a letter," Motoko informed them. "If I explain everything, she'll understand that she was mistaken."

"What if she doesn't?" Naru asked skeptically. "I don't want a repeat of the last couple days if she decides she has to be next to shito-boy here."

Motoko shook her head. "My sister's very levelheaded… most of the time," she said calmly, "once she's had time to think things over – in Kyoto, alone – she'll realize that the idea of Keitaro being a messenger from God is pretty farfetched."

"I agree, but he sure is handsome…"

Everyone looked up in surprise at the husky, gleeful observation.

"A-Amalla…?"

Hanging nimbly by her feet from one of the rafters overhead, Su's sister gave a jaunty wave. "You're right, Miss Narusegawa," she said happily, "he's not a shito – I figured that out when I first met him – no almighty being would send someone that clumsy to Earth, it's just impossible."

"Then why did you keep chasing him?" Naru demanded, trying not to strain her neck as she looked up at the older woman. "If you knew all along, then-"

Amalla's sudden, predatory grin cut her off in mid-sentence.

"…because I don't care if he's a shito or not, I'm still marrying him."

Before Keitaro could scramble out of the way, Amalla dropped from the rafters, landing on top of the coffin and deftly shimmying in at his side. Laughing with delight as she pushed him onto his back, she pulled the coffin lid closed behind her, supremely confident that her victory was ensured.

Naru sprang into action, shouting, "Come on!" as she reached for the lid… but for the life of her, she could not get it open. "Why… won't… this… oh for crying- who puts a lock on the _inside_ of a coffin?"

From within came the muffled sounds of some kind of scuffle, followed by a scream of terror – clearly Keitaro's – and then… an ominous silence, broken finally by a long, content sigh.

Everyone jumped as Su suddenly announced, "Don't be sad – MolMolese law says that the Prince Regent can live anywhere he wants as long as he's siring the required number of offspring, so Keitaro can live here."

"How many offspring is he required to have?" Naru asked dully, giving the coffin lid one last ineffectual tug before sinking to her knees in defeat as Motoko patted her consolingly on the shoulder.

Su smiled happily. "Thirty."

"_Thirty_?" came the collective gasp.

"That's not even physiologically possible," Seta scoffed.

"Oh, not for one woman," Su confirmed brightly, "which is why in addition to his wife, the Prince Regent is required to take on at least five consorts, all of whom he is required to love, honor, and support – though with the royal dowry, that's not such a big deal."

"Dowry, you say?" Kitsune asked, materializing from nowhere at Su's side. "Dowry of how much?"

"It's… I can never get the conversion right," Su mumbled, biting her tongue and closing one eye as she thought. "Five royal drachmars, one for each consort's needs, which equals about…" she screwed her face up in thought, "about nine million dollars for each consort."

"Nine _million?_" Kitsune echoed, dollar signs appearing in her eyes as she rubbed her hands together. "And all I gotta –er, all the consort has to do is lie around and be pampered by the prince and have a bunch of kids with him?"

"That's about the size of it."

"And he's allowed to have six women?"

"Or seven, or more, however many he needs to ensure the bloodline… the most I've heard of was nine."

"Seriously? At the same time?"

Su cleared her throat. "Well, I think they took turns," she said with a blush, "but I was always told that I shouldn't worry about that kind of stuff until I'm older, so I don't really know. All of the consorts have to get along, too," she added. "In MolMol, they're all considered members of the same family, and they call each other sist-"

Abruptly, the coffin lid was flung up, and Keitaro, his face covered in lipstick and sweat and his shirt practically torn from his body, panted, "Please… help me, she's…"

He trailed off as he looked around the room, staring from one pair of hungry, contemplative eyes to the next before realizing that – from these women – there would be no help forthcoming… or at least, not the kind of help he was thinking of. So when Amalla pushed him back down into the coffin and shut the lid, Keitaro did nothing to stop her.

"You know," Seta commented, taking Haruka by the elbow and steering her towards the exit as the other tenants slowly began to converge on the coffin, "maybe we should be going."

"I almost feel sorry for him," Haruka mused. "I don't think he'll be getting any rest until he's in one of those for real."

"Hey," Seta said suddenly. "All this shito business…"

"What about it?"

"Well," the archeologist mused, "what if he really _is_ a messenger sent down to Earth from somewhere up above? I mean, he _does _seem inordinately lucky, and unless there was divine intervention, I doubt there's any realistic chance that he'd be able to get six women to want to be with him enough to tolerate not only him, but each other. So what if he really _was_ sent here to spread the joys of truth and love?"

From within the coffin, there was another terrified scream.

"…then I'd say he's off to a good start."

Leaving the unfortunate manager to his fate, Haruka and Seta stepped out for coffee, putting thoughts of shito and torrid six-way trysts out of their mind. The way they figured it, in the next couple days they would either get a wedding invitation, or a notification of death.

Or maybe both.

Walking down the stairs, Seta could not help but glance back over his shoulder at the Hinata Sou.

"Lucky bastard…"

Shaking his head, he continued down the stairs, quickening his pace a bit before his morals could step in and send him running back to save the poor man he was leaving behind.

Privately, he hoped Keitaro _was _a shito… otherwise he would be dead inside of a week.

_But what a way to go…_

Epilogue

(Courtesy of Hawker-748)

Haruka sat in the Cafe Hinata, reading the paper, while her usual cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. Four days had gone by since the faux funeral Keitaro had dreamed up to drive away the women who'd mistaken him for a divine conduit.

One of those women, Su's older sister Amalla, had pronounced that she would marry Keitaro and make him the Prince Regent of Molmol. Haruka wasn't sure if they'd been officially married, but Amalla had decided to skip the ceremony and move straight to the honeymoon.

In the casket they'd used for the funeral service.

The other girls, especially Naru had been distraught, but had consoled themselves with the notion that Keitaro was required to take at least five consorts, the better to produce the thirty heirs demanded of him. The fact that each consort would be supported by a royal dowry of approximately nine million dollars US was simply icing on the cake.

A hell of a lot of icing...

'Haven't heard much since the first time Amalla jumped in that coffin,' Haruka recalled. Not that she wanted to know what exactly was going on up there, but she was a little curious in the abstract. The door to the Cafe opened, disturbing her musings. She casually glanced over, and was surprised to see Keitaro literally crawling through the opening.

"Water..." he rasped hoarsely.

Haruka went to the cooler and retrieved a bottle of water and walked over to where Keitaro was dragging himself along with his hands. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt that had seen better days. This description could apply to Keitaro, as there were black circles under his eyes, his hair was mussed up, and his eyes had a sunken look to him.

Now he did look like the shibito that Mei had assumed him to be.

Haruka handed Keitaro the water, which he snatched out of her hands and drank so quickly, that Haruka was sure that he'd end up swallowing the bottle as well.

"Thank you," Keitaro breathed gratefully.

"You look like hell Keitaro."

"I-I'm so tired... I can barely move."

"Haven't you slept?"

"Been in several beds," Keitaro replied drunkenly. "As well as the sofa, kitchen table, kitchen counter, outdoor bath, indoor bath, the attic, annex rooftop, the washing machine... Haven't gotten a chance to sleep though..."

"You've been up for four days?" Haruka asked in disbelief.

Keitaro took a moment, and started counting on his fingers. "Yeah, four days. Thought it was only three though, lost a day somewhere..."

Haruka helped the exhausted Prince Regent of Molmol to his feet and over to a chair, which he sat in with a pained hiss.

"Do I want to know what that's about?" Haruka asked.

"Riding crop."

"I beg your pardon?"

"When Naru and Motoko were...'occupying' me, Kitsune went into her closet and brought out some 'special' outfits," Keitaro explained. There were some questions in the Universe that were best left unasked, such as where had Kitsune gotten that human sized saddle and bridle...

And why they had been a perfect fit for Keitaro...

"She got a little carried away around the final turn, something about a 'Triple Crown'." 'At least she hadn't been that heavy,' Keitaro consoled himself. Her riding costume had consisted of a cowboy hat, chaps, boots complete with spurs, and nothing else...

"I need sleep," Keitaro murmured softly, placing his head on the table.

"Why didn't you sleep when they did?"

"After Amalla caught me trying to get away, they started sleeping in rotation," Keitaro explained. "Everyone slept in turns but me. The only reason I got away now is that Kitsune passed out on guard duty, and Su and Shinobu were too tired to stay up afterwards."

Haruka went to the liquor storage and took out her best sake, taking a big swig to help her keep the visualization that threatened to appear out of her head.

Feeling the warmth of the sake in her stomach, Haruka regarded her nephew closely. He had already dozed off, but he was fidgeting nervously even as he tried to catch up on the sorely needed sleep. 'Poor Keitaro, it couldn't have been that bad, could it?'

'Please, not here Shinobu, this is where we eat...' Keiatro murmured in his sleep.

"Maybe it could," Haruka admitted.

"Urashima-sensei, it's time for our lessons," a voice called out from the doorway.

Haruka turned and saw Amalla, Motoko, Naru, and Kitsune standing there, all of them wearing school girl outfits. Judging by the length of them, it had to be their junior high outfits. "Let the guy have a break, are you trying to kill him?"

"I guess we should," pouted Naru. "He's been kinda busy lately."

"If Kitsune hadn't fallen asleep, he wouldn't have gotten away," accused Amalla.

"Hey, I was more tired than I thought," Kitsune replied defensively. "'Sides, we found him, didn't we?"

"Only because of Su's Keitaro detector," pointed out Motoko.

"The guy needs to rest," insisted Haruka, in a voice that brooked no argument. Even Amalla didn't try to argue with her.

The four girls sighed and took seats at the table near Keitaro, watching him sleep fitfully. "We're going to have work out some kind of schedule, or we will kill him," remarked Naru, gently stroking his hair.

"I'll have Su work something out," replied Kitsune.

"Just make sure she does it fairly," insisted Naru. The others nodded in agreement.

For a few minutes there was only silence in the cafe, as the women watched the man of their affections get some much needed rest. Finally Motoko gave voice to something that had been on the back of her mind for some time, but not really considered in light of all that had happened.

"Does anyone else feel as if we're forgetting something?" she asked.

The others though about this for a moment, before shaking their heads in denial. "Don't think so, what could it be?" replied Kitsune dismissively.

XXX

In the Hinata City Prison, Kanako resumed her furious attempts at pulling the bars of her prison cell loose, the cracks in the concrete testament to her efforts. The orange prison uniform she was wearing didn't suit her at all, but at least it was a better fit than those damned grocery bags.

"When I get out of here, that white-haired tramp is SO going to get it," Kanako seethed between clenched teeth, as she resumed her attack on the bars. "And the rest of them too, leaving me to rot in here, while my brother is molested by that hussy!"

The bars continued to groan in protest.

The End

Notes: and thus, the madcapery is at an end! I was really planning to make this a serious story when the idea hit me, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it worked better as a comedy. Someone asked in one of the reviews what 'shito' means, and I THINK most of the other readers picked up on it due to my writing history, but it's the Japanese word for 'Apostle,' or 'Messenger.' In Evangelion (which I've written a… couple stories for) the creatures NERV is organized to fight against are called Shito. When the show was translated into English, ADV Films decided that Angel sounded better than Messenger. Shibito means 'walking dead,' and is a word I learned from playing the PS2 game _Siren. _I honestly have no idea if it LOOKS anything like Shito when it's written out in kanji, but it sure does make for good comedy, eh? _EH_?

I think that covers everything except Drachmars, which may or may not be a real kind of currency… I just needed something that sounded like it _could_ have come from a place like MolMol.

I must pause here to thank Hawker-748 for his fine pre-reading support. He knows a lot more about _Love Hina_ than I do, so he was invaluable in keeping everyone in character (or as close to it as possible for a fic like this) and keeping me from tripping over continuity flaws. Everyone should be reading his stories instead of mine, because he's better at this game than me.

One last note before I forget – the idea to have Keitaro in a coffin was MacBeth2001's… I just picked it up and ran with it. Thanks to him for giving me a better conclusion than the crap I had planned out.


End file.
